


i could write it better than you ever felt it

by theriveroflight



Series: just off the key of reason [3]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theriveroflight/pseuds/theriveroflight
Summary: Did he love her? No, not really, he decided. Only as a friend. But he needed this. This could redeem all his mistakes, being mates with Nightcloud. The entire relationship would be founded on lies, but it was worth it, if it meant that he could rejoin the Clan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own any quotes from the Warriors series. I used a variety of quotes from the entire Power of Three arc, “After Sunset: We Need to Talk,” and Omen of the Stars. They’re owned by HarperCollins and the Erins, and I do not claim them as my own. However, I have put my own spin on the delivery of the lines, taking both ques from the original work and my characterization of Crowfeather.  
> Again, the entire series is based off of Fall Out Boy’s “Hum Hallelujah,” which is where the title comes from.  
> Alternate Title: everyone calls Crowfeather out  
> warnings: uhh suicidal thoughts if you could call it that, descriptions of violence but no solid gore  
> timeline: just after sunset → after sunset: we need to talk → pre: po3 → the power of three → omen of the stars

Crowfeather was sitting next to Nightcloud. She was the only person that really tolerated him throughout the whole post-Leafpool fiasco. His internal moping over Leafpool, his external moping over the lack of acceptance by his Clan.

This lack of acceptance just made him work harder for the acceptance of his Clan.

“Crowfeather?”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at her.

“Do you want to be mates with me?” She sounded desperate, a plea in her eyes.

He glanced down. “Give me a moment, please. This is a big decision, and I don’t want to do anything hasty.” _Like I did the last two times._

Did he love her? No, not really, he decided. Only as a friend. But he needed this. This could redeem all his mistakes, being mates with Nightcloud. The entire relationship would be founded on lies, but it was worth it, if it meant that he could rejoin the Clan.

“All right.”

“You’ve…decided? Already?” She looked wistful. She wanted him to be her mate.

Why him? Why stick by his side? Why not abandon him to the whims of the Clan, just as so many others he had once known as friends had done?

She was desperate, that was clear. She was older than he was, and she would soon grow unable to have kits.

It disgusted him to think that Nightcloud’s want of a deeper relationship was brought on only by kits. But it was a startling reality.

And it was something he could agree to. “Yeah. I have.”

“I accept.” There was no going back now. He was now mates with Nightcloud.

* * *

A few moons had passed, and the Clan was slowly beginning to trust him again. Nightcloud had given birth to Breezekit, and he was now trying his best to be a good father, but Nightcloud wouldn’t let him come near their kit, and they argued over it. But only where nobody could hear. Only where nobody knew their relationship was founded on lies. She was incredibly close to the truth. They both had their own ideas about why they entered this relationship, and both of them had nothing to do with mutual love.

He was on a solo hunting patrol, just alone with his thoughts. About to leave for camp, he heard someone call for him.

“Wait!”

He would recognize that voice from anywhere. He mentally constructed his shields. He needed to be unflappable. “What? Leafpool, what are you doing here?”

“I-I wanted to see you.” She seemed hopeful, and she had gained weight since the last time he had seen her. ThunderClan was treating her well.

He glanced back and forth. Nobody was there, not even in the air. Just like how it used to be. Just like how he wanted it to be.

“Because! It’s been moons since I last spoke with you. And-and there’s something I think you should know…” With this last statement, the she-cat looked down at her paws. What was going on?

“No, there isn’t, Leafpool.” The statement was full of bitterness and pent-up resentment. This she-cat represented the best time of his life and at the same time utterly ruined it. “You don’t have _anything_ to tell me anymore. We belong to different Clans.” He paused. “Remember?”

“Why are you being like this?” She didn’t know that he was still in love with her, but only partially, and he was falling out of it. But this was only making him fall back into it. “It was hard for me too, you know. But…ThunderClan needs me to be their medicine cat. I don’t have a choice.”

This angered him, because she did have a choice. He let her make the decision, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t wistful, wanting something besides this life. “You did have a choice, and you chose to stay with them.” The statement was devoid of emotion, just out there, as opposed to angry. “Look, I shouldn’t even be talking to you. What if someone sees us?” He knew that wouldn’t happen. “My Clanmates have only _just_ begun to trust me again, no thanks to you. It’s because of Nightcloud.” He knew he was bragging, kind of, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t help it.

This clearly took her aback. “Nightcloud? Why?”

Now it was his turn to be awkward. “She-she had my kits last moon. Onestar is going to announce it next Gathering.”

She spoke, meeker than before, “Oh. I didn’t know.”

Feeling the need to defend his mate, even if neither loved the other, he spoke, defending both his actions and Nightcloud as a person. “Well, what did you think I’d do? Let my Clanmates go on thinking I was more loyal to ThunderClan? Nightcloud is a _great_ cat, and a good mother.” He hated to admit it, but she was a better mother than he was a father.

She cut him off before he could launch into a tirade, probably jealous that Nightcloud was his mate. “You were right, Crowfeather. We don’t have anything to say to each other now. Goodbye.”

Before she could leave, though, a patrol of ThunderClan cats arrived.

“Leafpool!” Brambleclaw called, “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Cloudtail looked at him. “What are _you_ doing out here on your own? Doesn’t WindClan have enough warriors to send out _proper_ patrols?”

“Of course we do!” he replied, indignant.

“What are you doing out here on your own, then?” an apprentice asked. He didn’t know whose apprentice, but probably Brambleclaw’s.

 _“Onestar_ doesn’t keep us prisoner in the camp!”

The fluffy white warrior that had spoken earlier looked at the two of them, obviously dubious. Who wouldn’t be, after everything that had happened in the past? “So…you two just _happened_ to meet here, did you?”

Calmly, he answered the question without rising to what Cloudtail seemed to expect. “That’s right.”

Realization seemed to cross the apprentice’s expression. “I remember you! You went away with Leafpool just before the badger attack! But then…you came back.”

“That was a long time ago, Berrypaw,” Brambleclaw said sagely. “We don’t need to talk about it now.”

Leafpool muttered under her breath, barely detectable (certainly not to ThunderClan cats, but he had exceptional hearing from being trained as a WindClan cat), “No. We don’t need to talk about anything.”

Cloudtail’s blue eyes cut into him as the white tom stepped forwards, turning his head towards Leafpool (but keeping his gaze on Crowfeather). “Has Crowfeather been bothering you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she nonchalantly replied.

“At least your Clanmates trust you.” Anger blazed in his expression as he glanced back and forth between the two. The situation was tense, charged with energy.

Three WindClan cats then stepped forwards. He had been so focused on the enemies across the border that he didn’t think to be aware that others could come from within.

“Greetings, Brambleclaw.” He would recognize that voice anywhere. Onestar. “Is there a problem?”

He sighed. “Oh, for StarClan’s sake!” _It was Leafpool who started talking to me!_

Tornear bristled. “I see one of our warriors against two of your warriors, plus an apprentice! Do you call that a fair fight?”

“There was no talk of fighting until you showed up, Tornear,” Cloudtail retorted calmly. “But if that’s what you want…” A thinly veiled threat was ‘hidden’ within the statement.

“Yeah! I might only be an apprentice but I can fight as well as any ThunderClan warrior.” Crowfeather rolled his eyes. Apprentices always rushed into things too quickly.

Then again, so had him at that age. Maybe in a different way, but still. Impulsive. He might still be. 

“Well,” Harepaw began, “if you only fight as well as a ThunderClan cat, you’re nothing to be scared of!”

“Come over here and say that! I’ll scratch your ears off, you piece of foxdung!”

“There’s no need to fight, Berrypaw,” Brambleclaw scolded. “Can’t you see they’re just mocking you?”

“What’s the matter, _Brambleclaw?_ Worried my apprentice will shred the fur off of yours?” Tornear spat. “Or do you think we wouldn’t actually fight? WindClan aren’t your cozy allies anymore, not now that Tallstar is dead. We’re as strong as _any_ of the Clans now, and _I_ think it’s time you found that out for yourselves!”

“Every cat knows the only reason WindClan cats run so fast is because they keep _running away!"_ Cloudtail proclaimed as he stepped closer to the border.

“Brambleclaw, it looks as though as if your Clanmates are desperate for a fight. Aren’t you going to _control_ them?” Onestar asked wryly, clearly attempting to antagonize him further. Crowfeather rolled his eyes; this was all so dumb. He would still have to defend his Clan’s honor when the time came, though. It was all part of being a warrior.

Brambleclaw, ever level-headed, replied, “I don’t see why I should, if you let your warriors insult them.” This was just a game, the two patrols dancing aggressively around each other.

Harepaw, not paying attention to the two authorities, proclaimed boldly, “I’d easily beat that apprentice over there. Every cat knows he’s half- _kittypet!”_ The apprentice spat out kittypet with disdain.

Berrypaw, honor insulted, retorted, “My mother came from the horseplace. That doesn’t make her a kittypet! We’re loyal to _ThunderClan_ now. I’m glad she didn’t come to _you_ for help first!”

“ThunderClan has quite the history of taking kittypets, doesn’t it? Not so welcoming to other Clan cats, though. Like Hawkfrost.” Crowfeather had almost forgotten about the suspicious death of Hawkfrost on ThunderClan territory.

Brambleclaw winced, barely noticeable. Cloudtail narrowed his eyes and growled, “He came onto our territory to kill Firestar! What did you think we’d do? Take him to our camp and let him have first pick of the fresh-kill pile?”

Tornear replied, “You didn’t get a chance to do that, did you? Seeing as he managed to stab himself-” Brambleclaw flinched, again. There was something the ThunderClan deputy wasn’t telling. “-and rolled into the lake to die?”

Brambleclaw recovered every bit of his poise and replied calmly, “Hawkfrost’s death has _nothing_ to do with you. He was a traitor to the warrior code and RiverClan are well rid of him.” Crowfeather couldn’t help what he said next.

Looking directly at Leafpool, he said, “Oh yes, ThunderClan cats always do what the warrior code tells them to do.”

“That’s _not fair_ , Crowfeather,” Leafpool replied, calling out his hypocrisy.

“Come on,” Onestar ordered, “ThunderClan cats might be able to waste time, but we have a patrol to finish. Brambleclaw, I suggest you tell your Clanmates to stay away from WindClan’s territory - and their warriors. There is peace only at the full moon, remember, and my cats will fight to protect what’s theirs.”

“Your cats have nothing ThunderClan wants,” Brambleclaw smoothly replied. “Come on, Cloudtail, Berrypaw. And you, Leafpool.”

“Thank you, Brambleclaw, but I can make my own way back,” the medicine cat coldly retorted.

“Bye, _kittypet._ I’ll be ready for you next time,” Harepaw jeered.

“Ready to be beaten, you mean? Because that’s what’ll happen.” And so the WindClan patrol padded back to camp, leaving Crowfeather and Leafpool. There was a brief moment of awkward silence neither wanted to break. Crowfeather lifted his muzzle, jerking his gaze away from hers and stalked off.

* * *

He went to visit the nursery one day. Nightcloud brought Breezekit closer to her.

“Hey, Nightcloud.” He padded over to her and looked at Breezekit, who was napping.

“Go away, Crowfeather.”

He was too much of a coward to admit that he wanted to have his son in his life. His only son, unfortunately. Nightcloud was overprotective, and her protectiveness made sense - all the other kits were lost in stillbirth. Nightcloud had been getting old, and the birth was hard on her. Still, Crowfeather was trying to be a good father for Breezekit. Nightcloud just refused to let him in.

* * *

“Breezepaw! Heatherpaw! Breezepaw! Heatherpaw!”

He went to congratulate his son, and grab Heatherpaw for a tour of their territory.

“Whitetail,” he said, dipping his head to acknowledge his son’s mentor.

“Would you like to take our apprentices on a tour of the territory together?”

“Sure,” he answered cordially. And so they embarked on their journey, the two warriors working together to describe WindClan territory to them.

It was civil. Breezepaw never spoke, but Heatherpaw was bursting with questions. He answered every single one of them, even with the sorrow flooding his senses. He just wanted Nightcloud to let him in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PO3 installment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to write.

One day, the four of them were out on a patrol when a cat (small, probably an apprentice, not WindClan) fell into the lake. It reminded him of Leafpool all over again. And Feathertail before her.

He pulled out the cat, who squirmed in his grasp. “Keep still!”

As he paddled for the shore, he noticed the cat trying to swim along. _“Stop wriggling!”_

He set the cat down onto the rocky beach. “Will he be okay?” Heatherpaw inquired.

“Who’s there? Are you warriors?” the cat asked. So, Clan cat. He attempted to make sense of the cat’s scent, but the water masked their scent.

“What do you mean?” Heatherpaw wondered aloud. The realization made her straighten. “He can’t see!”

Whitetail began to lick his fur upwards. Crowfeather helped her out, and scented him closely. ThunderClan tom.

“Will he be okay, Whitetail?” Heatherpaw asked.

“He’ll be fine, Heatherpaw. Can you hear me?”

The tom nodded. He shook his head and shook out his fur.

“Typical that a ThunderClan should thank us by trying to drown us!” Breezepaw said, aghast.

“Stop making a fuss, Breezepaw,” he scolded, but pushing the point gently. Nightcloud was spoiling him. “It’s only a few drops of water.” He then turned to the ThunderClan apprentice. His blind blue eyes stared back, a reflection of his own. _StarClan, no. It can’t be._ “What were you doing so far from your camp? Is there anyone with you?” he asked. _Crowfeather. Contemplate the existence of more of your kits later, when you’re in the security of your camp._

“Be gentle, Crowfeather,” Whitetail pleaded, “he’s had a bad shock.” She licked the apprentice’s ear. “You’re safe now, little one.” She paused to let him relax. “I’m Whitetail. This is Crowfeather, and these are our apprentices, Heatherpaw and Breezepaw. We won’t hurt you.”

“I think he might have guessed that by the way we just saved his life!” Breezepaw muttered under his breath.  
“I wish you’d teach your son some manners, Crowfeather!” Whitetail glared at him. _It isn’t my fault,_ he wanted to say, _Nightcloud refuses to let me into his life!_ Turning her attention back to the apprentice, she asked, “What were you doing out here alone? Did you know you were headed towards WindClan territory? Are you in trouble?”

The apprentice merely answered that he would be.

He was running on his last nerve lately - dealing with the whole issue of Breezepaw and Nightcloud and past lovers and ThunderClan and rising tensions and everything else was just so stressful for him. He snapped in return, “I should hope so! What was your Clan _thinking_ , letting you wander off like that?”

Heatherpaw brushed against the apprentice gently. Heatherpaw was always very gentle, something Crowfeather admired about her. That quality had always evaded him, no matter what he tried.

Maybe it was best to just leave Breezepaw to his own devices. That was what Nightcloud probably wanted - no interference from him.

She asked, “Can you see anything at all?”

Breezepaw’s scathing answer to that treated the apprentice as though he wasn’t there. “If he can, he must be stupid, walking off the edge of a cliff!” Crowfeather shot a glare at Breezepaw. If this apprentice was truly blind, then they should all care a little more.

“I didn’t walk off the edge!” the apprentice snapped back.

“It looked like the edge from where _we_ were standing,” Breezepaw retorted.

“Be quiet, Breezepaw!” he scolded. Breezepaw didn’t speak again, but his tail restlessly brushed the rocks of the shore, and his eyes were narrowed. _Resentment. Is that all he’s been trained to feel about me by Nightcloud?_

“I suppose I’d better take him back to ThunderClan,” he said. “Are you well enough to travel?” The question was directed at the apprentice.

The apprentice nodded in return, standing up shakily. “Thank you for rescuing me, but I can find my own way home,” he answered coldly.

“There’s no way I’m letting you wander off by yourself again,” he insisted. “Whitetail, you take Heatherpaw and Breezepaw back to camp,” he ordered. While speaking, he gently rested his tail on the apprentice’s shoulder as a guide.

As the two left, Whitetail called, “See your medicine cat as soon as you get home!”

Crowfeather wordlessly guided the apprentice back to ThunderClan territory, with the occasional warning about rabbit holes, or roots sticking up. As they drew closer to the border, a ThunderClan patrol consisting of Squirrelflight, Stormfur, and a foreign cat approached.

“Crowfeather?” Stormfur wondered aloud. The patrol approached the two of them; likely the oddest pairing they had ever seen.

“Jaypaw?” Squirrelflight asked. _So that’s his name._ “What in StarClan happened to you?” Then, directed at him, “Where did you find him?”

“He’d wandered into WindClan territory,” he answered, probably more gruff than amicable. “I had to fish him out of the lake.” The apprent- Jaypaw, he mentally corrected - lowered his head, probably from shame. “Do your kits always go out by themselves?” It was more of a joke than anything else, but probably didn’t come out that way, knowing him.

Jaypaw snapped his head up to glare at Crowfeather. “I’m not a kit; I’m an apprentice!” he exclaimed, scandalized by Crowfeather’s bad attempt at a joke.

“Crowfeather,” Squirrelflight interjected, “I believe WindClan once had cats who went wandering farther than they should.” _Nothing gives her the right…_ He withdrew his tail from Jaypaw’s shoulder.

“You should get him back to camp,” he merely replied. “He almost drowned, and the water was freezing.”

“Yes, I should,” Squirrelflight answered. He followed them into the camp; the warrior had been here before, so long ago when the badger attacks happened.

Crowfeather padded into the medicine den. It was absolutely stupid, but he just wanted to know. The Gatherings weren’t enough.

“You’re safe,” Leafpool said as she turned to see Jaypaw, and then froze when she saw him. _Should I have done this? It’ll just tempt me._ “Hello, Crowfeather,” she said smoothly to him, recovering from the shock easily.

“Leafpool,” he replied. “I was out with Breezepaw and his mentor when we found him.” He knew he was bragging, but he wanted to show Leafpool that he could have this life and she couldn’t.

He didn’t know for sure, but it was possible that she had that life too.

She straightened, stiffening. “Your son’s an apprentice already?”

“He is,” the warrior answered, his voice flat and uncaring.

Another apprentice (Leafpool’s, he assumed) raced into the den. “Jaypaw!” she exclaimed. _StarClan, no._ He saw a brief resemblance to him in the apprentice. “You look half-drowned!” the apprentice continued. Jaypaw sunk to the ground.

“Fetch some thyme, Hollypaw,” Leafpool ordered. So yes, the she-cat - Hollypaw - was Leafpool’s apprentice.

The apprentice did so, but it was clear from Leafpool’s reaction that it was the wrong herb. He spaced out as they discussed, but it was still tense.

“Crowfeather, if you could please leave,” Leafpool icily demanded. He didn’t expect anything different. He dipped his head and turned out of the den. _I didn’t get to ask._

_I don’t want to know._

* * *

 

The Gathering came a few days later. He came, as a result of Heatherpaw going, because he was her mentor.

Onestar droned on about Breezepaw. Blackstar talked about a new ShadowClan apprentice, and Crowfeather anxiously swished his tail back and forth. He suspected that something would happen tonight.

Firestar began speaking about ThunderClan’s new apprentices. He already had met two of them, but still listened intently to the leaders.

He scented some sort of outsider. He narrowed his eyes, and watched as some of his other Clanmates attacked the outsiders.

“Stop!” Firestar called. Of course he was trying to stall this. The leader was always more of a pacifist - if there was a solution that didn’t involve fighting, Firestar would find it. His Clanmates backed away and Firestar tentatively called to the stranger (who he vaguely recognized in old memories, but he didn't remember the name). “Graystripe…?”

He was astounded at the proclamation. ThunderClan’s former deputy had been lost long ago. It seemed so long to him that they were living in a forest crashing around them. ThunderClan had appointed a new deputy, thinking Graystripe was dead. Was Brambleclaw’s appointment unlawful due to the fact that Graystripe was back?

Cats surrounded the returning warrior and his mysterious companion, but Crowfeather didn't move. He wasn't really interested.

As the Clans began to leave [under the reasoning that Graystripe and his companion (Millie, he was pretty sure) were tired and needed to return to ThunderClan], Breezepaw called, “Does this mean ThunderClan has two deputies now?” It was an interesting question - this was a unique question. It didn't make the action any more right as it could be seen as impertinence. Then again, what apprentice wasn't impertinent? He certainly had been.

But nothing came of it, and the Clans just left the island, chatting with the new gossip. He was never the type to gossip, keeping to himself typically.

They arrived back to camp, and though Crowfeather and Nightcloud had nests next to each other, they slept as far away from each other as possible.

* * *

 

Barkface warned them of a dog attack coming to their Clan.

In the heat of the attack, ThunderClan joined to help them. They probably thought that by defending WindClan they were preventing their own Clan from being invaded. They had no right - WindClan wasn't helpless. They knew how to defend themselves. He heard his name being .called by Ashfur. He turned towards the warrior, stunned. The Clans fought together, driving the dogs away. He helped Ashfur and Birchfall drive away a dog attacking his apprentice and a ThunderClan tom of about the same age, maybe a bit younger.

“WindClan owes you a debt of thanks,” he said formally.

Brambleclaw clipped his head in acknowledgement. "May we accompany you back to the camp? I want to be sure all's well.”

Though he had no cause to doubt the other Clan's deputy, his instincts told him that this was a golden opportunity for ThunderClan to take advantage of them. As much as ThunderClan was considered the most righteous of the Clans, they were still cats with a killer instinct. And his Clan’s rivals. So, he narrowed his eyes, but still assented to this. “Follow me,” he said, leading the patrol to the WindClan camp. As he entered the camp, Tornear reported the situation to Onestar. “How are the kits?” he asked.

“Frightened, but they’ll recover,” his leader answered.

As the ThunderClan patrol entered the camp, his Clanmates seemed wary (which made sense). He explained that Firestar sent a patrol to aid them.

Onestar’s gaze flitted over the patrol. “WindClan thanks you,” he said (as he dipped his head), but it was charged with something else (animosity, he thinks).

“We heard the dogs from the border,” Brambleclaw explained. Something like that really did need an explanation. “I…hope you will forgive us for crossing the markers, but we were not sure how many dogs threatened you.” Every cat involved had been speaking formally, a hallmark that leaders dealt in formalities.

“Fortunately,” Onestar said, “we knew they were coming.” He pointed his muzzle at Barkface. “StarClan warned him, and we had a plan ready to draw them from the camp.”

“Your plan was working,” Brambleclaw replied.

“But we never could chase the dogs off without you,” Heatherpaw blurted, and he mentally cursed his apprentice. They were trying to diverge from ThunderClan, had been ever since Tallstar died and Mudclaw’s rebellion had left Onestar in charge. “The dogs were faster than I ever imagined.” At least she knew how to speak formally. She glanced over at the ThunderClan apprentice. “Lionpaw saved me from one of them.” He picked up the vibe that came from the statement and he _knew._ Nobody could make the same mistake that he had.

He wove between Lionpaw and Heatherpaw, trying to block them from interacting. They couldn’t make the same mistake, especially if he was right in his theorizing. He looked towards Lionpaw. He possessed Leafpool’s amber eyes, though he looked more like he was related to Brambleclaw. He remembered the announcement that Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw’s kits had been born, and he thought that Lionpaw was definitely their kit. Along with the other two, his siblings. “That was brave, Lionpaw, but WindClan is perfectly capable of taking care of its own cats.” And hopefully they wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

“But-” the apprentice protested, but was silenced by some subtilty from someone in his Clan.

“No damage to the barrier,” Breezepaw announced, bursting in.

“Have you checked it all the way around?” he asked.

Breezepaw glared at him, and he mentally winced. Maybe physically, but he didn’t catch it if he had. “Of course! That’s what Whitetail ordered me to do.”

Nightcloud stepped forwards, probably to defend Breezepaw. She spoiled him, but he ignored Breezepaw a lot of the time. He felt bad for it, but hopefully putting some distance between them and not looking like someone who was trying too hard to dote on him would hopefully cause Breezepaw to come to him. He had tried to come to Breezepaw - and failed every single time. “You should have more faith in _our son,_ Crowfeather.”

“Whitetail’s my mentor, not you,” Breezepaw added.

“Is that the kittypet?” A kit came creeping out of the tunnel, and he recognized it as Sedgekit. The kit was genuinely curious, but misguided in her views (and she was only a kit. Hopefully someone would set her right, because prejudice would get the Clans nowhere.) Everyone looked at Millie, and he vaguely wondered how she would react.

“I’m training to be a warrior now,” she responded calmly, in the kit-voice most adults used on kits. He never used it on Breezepaw. Or any young cat, to be honest. He never saw the point.

“But you can’t ever be a real w-” Her mother emerged from the tunnel.

“Sedgekit, come away. You’ll get wet out here,” she called, and the kit glared at her before going back.

“We should go,” Brambleclaw said. “Those dogs won’t dare come near this part of your territory again.”

“If they do, we can manage them by ourselves,” Breezepaw muttered, and for once Crowfeather agreed with him. WindClan could manage.

“Breezepaw!” Nightcloud admonished. The one time she actually decided to be a good parent it’s about the- “Heatherpaw might have been hurt without this brave apprentice.” Her voice jarred him out of his thoughts. She was looking towards Lionpaw gratefully.

“Do you need some treatment for your wounds?” Heatherpaw asked Lionpaw, and Crowfeather desperately hoped that they wouldn’t make the same mistakes that he had made.

“Leafpool will treat them when I get home,” he answered, shaking his head.

Brambleclaw turned and left the camp. The patrol followed him, and he watched them go.

* * *

 

Newleaf was arriving, and with it another Gathering.

There were three separate groups (or four, when ThunderClan got there). That was fine with Crowfeather. He was never really one for socialization. The full moon still reminded him too much of Leafpool. Too much of stolen moments under the cover of secrets and foliage in the midst of greenleaf transitioning into leaf-fall. The moonlit meetings. The secret touches. And now it was buried beneath the falling leaves that had decayed by this point and the snow that had melted.

A fight between a ThunderClan apprentice and a ShadowClan apprentice burst out. He recognized the ThunderClan apprentice from the second-to-last time he spoke with Leafpool. Berrypaw, he thought, but he wasn’t completely sure. Brambleclaw pulled Berrypaw off of the ShadowClan apprentice to keep the truce. Tensions were running high.

Leafbare had wrecked them all, in different ways.

Firestar began the Gathering. He tuned out, not really paying much attention until Leopardstar complained that the lake wasn’t where they belonged.

They belonged here. Crowfeather could feel it. He knew that the lake was the perfect place for them, and he doesn’t think he could learn to call yet another place home until StarClan.

Squirrelflight began to speak, and he noticed that the clouds that had advanced on the moon were swept away. This seemed like a sign, but he wasn’t really sure if there were any signs anymore.

“Why should we do that?” Blackstar snapped in reaction to Squirrelflight’s proposition. “The truce only comes with the full moon.”

“The moon is as full in the day as during the night,” he pointed out, because the logic that the moon was only full at night made no sense. Just because they couldn’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. It was a good idea, though. It would bring the Clans together again.

* * *

 

The competition day had arrived, and though the Clans were fighting, it was more of a friendly nature. All the apprentices had been placing their thoughts on which cats would win which events, even about apprentices from other Clans. The hunting had just begun, and he watched Hollypaw and Heatherpaw prepare to face off against each other for the fighting. The fight was going well - though the ThunderClan apprentice was doubly less experienced through both her age and her training at first as a medicine cat, she still held her own against Heatherpaw. “Finish her, Heatherpaw,” he ordered his apprentice. It was all in good fun, he reminded himself.

Hollypaw won.

He saw Jaypaw streaking by, going at a run despite his lack of sight. Some other sense kept him from bumping into the trees that seemed to be everywhere in ThunderClan territory. Since the medicine apprentice wasn’t involved at all, Crowfeather curiously went after him, wondering what Jaypaw was doing.

He arrived to see Jaypaw pulling Lionpaw out of the dirt. _Is Breezepaw under there?_ Panic for his son arose in him. “What’s going on?” he asked, dismayed.

“The den collapsed!” Jaypaw exclaimed. “Lionpaw and Breezepaw fell in.” He was at Jaypaw’s side the moment he heard his son’s name, digging to save him in an instant, frenzied with worry.

“Crowfeather?” asked Heatherpaw, who must have followed him.

“Breezepaw’s still buried!” he answered, out of breath and still digging.

“Breezepaw?!” Nightcloud said, responding to when Crowfeather said their son’s name. It appeared the only thing that could bring them together was their son in danger. She began digging beside Jaypaw. “Oh, my precious kit!” Breezepaw wasn’t a kit anymore.

“I can feel him!” Jaypaw announced, and he moved to burrow near Jaypaw, dragging Breezepaw from the earth. But something was wrong.

Breezepaw wasn’t breathing.

“Fetch Leafpool!” Jaypaw announced.

“I’m here!” she said, all business. She- he couldn’t get distracted. They had both made their choices.

“Can you save them?” Jaypaw asked, pleading visible in his expression. “I came as fast as I could, but-”

“Lionpaw is breathing,” Leafpool told the apprentice calmly. “I’ve cleared the soil from his throat.”

Crowfeather stood, paralyzed as the two ThunderClan cats entrusted with Breezepaw’s life cleared the dirt from his throat. Breezepaw coughed, releasing the remaining dirt from his throat, and Crowfeather let out a breath that he was unaware he was holding.

“Will he be alright?” Nightcloud whispered.

“Yes, he will,” Leafpool answered.

“Thank you, Leafpool,” he said, genuinely grateful.

“I would give my last drop of blood to save your kit,” she responded. “You know that.”

 _“Our_ kit was lucky Jaypaw was here,” Nightcloud interrupting, dissolving the tension between them temporarily.

They had gone to the ThunderClan camp.

Firestar announced the winners of the varying events of the daytime Gathering, and even did a shoutout for Jaypaw.

Crowfeather still couldn’t shake the tension - the fight for Breezepaw’s life, and then the aftermath. And Leafpool.

This wasn’t like Feathertail. Feathertail he knew would be gone forever, and that was why he had gotten over it. But Leafpool was very much so alive, so tantalizingly close yet it was almost as though she had journeyed away and he had stayed in the forest with the elders.

* * *

 

The next full moon was upon them, so soon after the last one. Time seemed to be whirlwinding by him.

The apprentices were in a group, and he noticed Lionpaw and Heatherpaw. He couldn’t let that happen. He just...couldn’t. It hurt him that more cats were in danger of making the same mistakes that he had, and he couldn’t let it happen again.

“Heatherpaw,” he greeted briskly, “why don’t you go and talk to some of the apprentices from the _other_ Clans? This is a good chance to get to know different cats.” He looked at both Lionpaw and Hollypaw. There was a heavier danger from Lionpaw, but where he went, Hollypaw also went. He didn’t want anyone to make the same mistakes, even if it was a relationship where neither party could have even more incriminating kits.

“Come on,” Breezepelt persuaded, “let’s see if Ivypaw outjumped Berrypaw.” Heatherpaw looked at Lionpaw, almost longingly (no, no, no) and then shrugged.

“Okay, then.” He went to rejoin WindClan, accomplished.

Blackstar kicked off this Gathering, announcing the birth of Tawnypelt’s kits.

He watched as the leaders quickly concluded the news portion of the Gathering, and Squirrelflight congratulated Rowanclaw, most likely fathering the kits.

Breezepaw decided to intervene (it was never his business, but Leafpool was there. He let him).

He stared directly at Leafpool as he said, directed at Breezepaw, “Don’t forget, Breezepaw, ThunderClan actually _celebrates_ mixed blood.” Leafpool jerked her head away from him, and he felt a sting that was a mixture of self-satisfaction and longing. She turned and hurried away from where they were. Squirrelflight took Lionpaw away from them, and WindClan left shortly afterwards.

* * *

 

Another Gathering, another day.

Except it wasn’t ordinary. It was anything but ordinary, because the entirety of RiverClan was here.

Leopardstar explained, and he had a question. “Is that enough?” he asked. “What will you do when you have fished out the shallow waters around the island?”

Mistyfoot answered the question, but it wasn’t really an answer. He was genuinely curious, and wasn’t _just_ trying to defend WindClan. In this day, everyone assumed that he couldn’t be asking a question just to ask the question.

The Gathering concluded shortly afterwards.

Nobody wanted a fight.

But everyone seemed to expect one.

* * *

 

He was patrolling along the RiverClan border when he scented the cats. RiverClan.

“What are you doing on WindClan land?” Ashfoot asked the patrol.

Reedwhisker (at least, he was pretty sure it was him - he tried to keep track of all the cats from all the Clans, but there were a lot of them) answered, “We were chased by that mouse-brained dog from Twolegplace.” Even and respectful. Not a hint of intent to invade.

“Where is it now?” he asked, stepping forwards.

One of the warriors jerked his muzzle towards the Twolegplace. “It went home.”

“And we’re supposed to believe that?” Tornear asked, ever battle-hungry. “All we can smell is dung!”

Crowfeather had never been one for violence. If he could avoid a fight, he would, but some things were better left to their own devices. He’d fight if he had to. And he had to defend his honor and his Clan.

“What happened to you?” Breezepaw asked to one of the apprentices (standing next to what seemed like the medicine apprentice, but he wasn’t entirely sure). “Don’t they teach RiverClan kits to wash?” It was filled with a snobbish contempt, and he was tempted to scold his son. He shouldn't try to antagonize others, especially in such a tense setting like this.

“Get off of WindClan territory,” Ashfoot ordered. The air was charged with tension, and no one’s fur was smooth. “You may have lost your territory, but you’re not having ours!”

“We haven’t _lost_ our territory!” one warrior protested.

“Then why are you here?” Tornear inquired.

“Looking for prey?” Crowfeather added, joining the game.

“No!” Reedwhisker lashed his tail as he spoke.

A third apprentice leaped to the forefront. “We wouldn’t eat rabbit if we were starving!”

“Get off our land,” Ashfoot hissed. _“Now.”_

The RiverClan cats left.

“There’ll be extra patrols along the border from now on!” the deputy called after them. He sighed. More work, more patrols. But…it’s better than having free time. More work distracted him.

* * *

 

Sometimes Heatherpaw seemed tired during the day, the faint scent of dirt and ThunderClan clinging to her pelt.

He suspected she was meeting with the ThunderClan apprentice.

Maybe she’ll learn from his mistakes.

But he would have to tell her first, and some things are best left unsaid.

* * *

 

He scented Leafpool and her apprentice before he saw the brown tabby and the gray tabby.

Leafpool’s gaze swept the camp, and he looked away as the cats whispered about why they were here and such. “You look well, Crowfeather.”

Tension rose in the air. He knew everything was riding on how he reacted.

“What are you doing here, Leafpool?” he asked quietly and sharply, keeping the longing out of his voice.

“Firestar sent us to speak with Onestar,” she answered in a soft but gentler tone than his.

“He’s not here,” he responded.

“We know.” She sat down, and Onestar returned, along with Whitetail and Weaselfur.

“What’s this about?” his leader demanded.

“Firestar sent us,” Leafpool stated.

“Why?” He circled the two ThunderClan cats. “Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she curtly answered.

“Then why come here? Does Firestar still think there’s some kind of _‘special bond’_ between our Clans? Because there _isn’t.”_

“Firestar understands that. He doesn’t want to shed blood over our shared border.”

“Why did he attack our apprentices, then?” Onestar’s tail flicked back and forth.

“WindClan warriors unsheathed their claws first,” Leafpool meowed calmly. “We were only defending the border _they_ crossed.”

“It was our prey!” Tornear hissed. Other cats expressed their agreement. He just watched it unfold.

“Not once it’d crossed the border,” her apprentice hissed in reply. Leafpool silenced him, brushing her tail across his muzzle.

“We didn’t come here to argue,” she proclaimed, at least partially to her apprentice (but probably mostly to the Clan.)

“Then why did you come?” Onestar growled the question, a method of intimidation.

“To talk,” she answered.

“Was Firestar too mouse-hearted to come himself?” Tornear challenged.

“Firestar didn’t want to provoke you by sending a warrior patrol,” she explained calmly. He didn’t know when he had started circling them, but he had.

“Then he shouldn’t have sent anyone!” he said.

“Not every cat hides from his responsibilities!” Leafpool sharply hissed. He froze.

That was a long time ago. He was a more senior warrior, not a fresh warrior with his heart in a cat he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t run. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Are you saying that’s what I would do?” He leaned closer to her. The tension was dissonantly resolved as Onestar pushed him aside.

“Get out of the way!” Then, to Leafpool: “What do you want to talk about?”

“Firestar wants to know if RiverClan has invaded your territory. Is that why you’ve been hunting so close to our border? Are you being _forced_ into ThunderClan territory or do you simply want to take our land because you are foolish enough to believe you can?” How dare she imply something like that.

“RiverClan has not invaded our lands,” Onestar answered coldly. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t.” In a more viscous tone, “Does _Firestar_ expect us to wait until they do? Does he think we should sit around like fat voles waiting to be pounced on?”

“But you are not voles!” she snapped to him. “Why not defend your RiverClan border instead of attacking ours?”

“We will defend what borders we have to,” he retorted in a similarly sharp tone. “And take what territory we need.”

“You don’t even know that RiverClan is going to invade. Why threaten us?”

“You sound like a blackbird singing the same song over and over again!” Tornear growled to them.

In a calmer tone, Leafpool suggested, “Barkface could speak to Mothwing at the next Moonpool gathering. He can find out exactly what RiverClan intends. It may turn out you have nothing to be afraid of.” That line struck a (dissonant) chord with Crowfeather.

“We _aren’t_ afraid!” he exclaimed.

“Then why won’t you listen to reason?” she pushed. “You are honorable warriors. Why let yourselves be driven by suspicion instead of truth?”

“Listen to her!” Weaselfur mocked. “Trying to steal time for her Clan with clever _words.”_

Fighting wasn’t always the answer, but careful discussion wasn’t always the answer either.

“WindClan fights with claws, not words,” Tornear warned.

The apprentice boldly hissed as though the Clan wasn’t there, “It’s like trying to show worms to moles. They’re too blind to see beyond their own noses.”

 _“We’re_ too blind?” Weaselfur asked mockingly.

“Wait!” his leader ordered. “Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps we should give RiverClan a chance to explain what’s going on before we do anything.”

“A chance to invade, more like,” Tornear hissed.

“You _saw_ how desperate RiverClan looked at the last Gathering,” he argued. “And every patrol we see looks hungrier than the last. We can’t trust them!”

“But they haven’t invaded yet,” Onestar pointed out.

“They crossed the border,” Tornear reminded.

Tornear was always rather foolhardy.

“Only once.” Onestar paused to think. He muttered, “we can’t let them drive us into unnecessary bloodshed.”

All of a sudden, he heard a dismayed yowl. Gorsetail skidded into the clearing. “My kits are gone!”

“Sedgekit?”

“Thistlekit?” Which of the kits were gone?

“Sedgekit, Thistlekit, and Swallowkit!” she announced, panting. “All of them disappeared!”

“When did you last see them?” Onestar asked. Crowfeather leaned closer, wanting to hear the conversation.

“I left them in the nursery and went to stretch my legs. They weren’t there when I came back, so I went looking for them. They've wandered out before, but not far. Their trail heads toward the RiverClan border and then just disappears. A hawk’s carried them off, I know it!” She wailed the last line.

“Calm down, Gorsetail.” Onestar’s mew was calm, but his stance was anything but. “You can’t be sure. No hawk’s ever taken more than a single kit before. We must send out a search party.”

A patrol stormed into the camp. Ashfoot proclaimed, “Onestar! We’ve just seen a RiverClan patrol heading _back_ into their territory.” Breezepaw and Heatherpaw were with her.

“They’ve been on our land!” Breezepaw spat.

“And there was rabbit blood where they’d been,” Heatherpaw added.

“Are you sure it was _rabbit_ blood?” Gorsetail voiced everyone’s suspicion.

“What?” Heatherpaw asked. The patrol didn’t know.

“My kits have disappeared!” Gorsetail wailed.

“You think the RiverClan patrol might have taken them?” Heatherpaw seemed horrified by thought, as though she knew that it wasn’t so.

“You must leave,” Onestar said to the ThunderClan cats.

“You’re...not going to attack RiverClan, are you?” Leafpool asked.

“We’ll do what we must to get our kits back!” Onestar hissed.

“But you don’t know they’ve taken them,” the apprentice objected, probably coming from a purely logical standpoint. “A moment ago you thought it was a hawk.”

“That was _before_ RiverClan crossed the border,” Onestar retorted.

“But they may have had good reason!” Leafpool argued

“To steal our kits!” Ashfoot growled.

“But why-"

Onestar snarled, cutting her off. “Go home! You can tell _Firestar_ it’s too late. You’ve wasted your time trying to protect RiverClan. We’ll attack at once!”

Ashfoot called for a patrol. He stepped up, wanting to know that the kits would be safe.

Then he realized something. Heatherpaw and Breezepaw were missing.

They marched through the rain and the night.

“What do you want?” the leader of a RiverClan patrol asked.

“We’d like to visit your camp. Three of our kits are missing.”

“And you think we took them?” she asked indignantly.

“We’d like to have a look. Just in case.”

“We don’t have your kits.” Another cat stepped up. “Why would we want _WindClan_ kits?”

“Why were you crossing our border?” Tornear retorted.

“A dog chased us.” Onestar sniffed around a little bit after the proclamation, but didn’t say anything.

“You have until dawn,” Onestar proclaimed. “At dawn we will forcibly seize them. Come along, let us check with _ThunderClan_ as well.”

They marched to the ThunderClan border.

There was a patrol at the border. Though the warrior’s claws were unsheathed, all he was doing was ripping up grass.

“I told you,” Firestar repeated, _“we don't have your kits.”_

“Then where are they?” Onestar asked, bristling. “RiverClan swears they don’t have them either. But they _must_ be somewhere and we mean to find them.”

“Put _one paw_ across the border and we’ll shred you,” the ThunderClan leader threatened icily.

“Stop!” came a yell from nearby. Breezepaw. “We found the kits!”

“There’s no need to fight.” A second voice, she-cat. Not Heatherpaw, probably a ThunderClan car.

“Where are they?” Onestar whipped his head towards them.

“They’re coming,” the dark apprentice promised. Right - she used to be the medicine apprentice.

Everyone turned towards them. Heatherpaw nudged Sedgekit and Swallowkit into sight. The ThunderClan apprentice (Lionpaw, he was pretty sure - the one he hoped wouldn’t be involved with Heatherpaw) and the apprentice who saved Breezepaw followed, the latter setting Thistlekit next to the other kits.

“Where in StarClan did you find them?” Onestar asked, astonished.

“They found their way into-” Lionpaw began, but the black she-cat cut him off.

“They were down on the shore. They’d made themselves a camp to shelter from the rain.”

Heatherpaw nodded. “They were just inside the ThunderClan border, right down on the beach.” She looked over at Breezepaw. “Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and Jaypaw saw us looking for them and called us over when they picked up their scent.”

“What scent? We didn’t find any,” Onestar asked, dubiously glaring at them.

“The rain must have washed it away,” Breezepaw responded, blinking.

“Come here!” Onestar ordered the kits.

The kits slowly made their way to the WindClan leader, looking as though they knew they would be in trouble, which they would.

“Why did you leave the camp without permission?” he demanded.

Sedgekit lifted his chin. “We were exploring.” He didn’t sound as though he regretted it.

“Exploring?” Onestar echoed, but he sounded angrier than Sedgekit had (and he had every right to be mad). “We’ve almost fought battles with RiverClan and ThunderClan looking for you!”

Swallowkit looked at her paws. “We’re sorry.”

“We didn’t think,” Thistlekit added.

“It seemed like fun to build our own camp on the beach.” Sedgekit glanced over at Hollypaw as he spoke. There was something none of them were divulging, but that was okay. The kits were returned. Nothing else really mattered.

“You said _almost_ fought RiverClan?” Lionpaw asked, stepping forwards.

“There hasn’t been a battle yet?” Hollypaw added.

“We gave RiverClan until dawn to return the kits.” Onestar sighed. “But now it looks like we need to apologize for falsely accusing them.”

“Apologize?” Tornear asked. “Don’t forget _they_ crossed _our_ border!”

“They were chased by a dog,” Onestar reminded him.

“That’s what they said _last time,”_ he said, because they couldn’t be considered naive.

“I smelled the dog scent myself.” Onestar glares at him.

“But they still might invade,” he responds, but it’s weak. Even he is doubting himself.

“Or they might return to their old camp, as promised. We’ll find out at the next Gathering. Until then, we patrol the borders as normal. And if we see that dog, we’ll teach it to stay on its own land.”

Firestar looked at Hollypaw. “It looks like you were right, Hollypaw.”

She dipped her head. “It was never about being right.”

“You look exhausted,” Brambleclaw remarked. “We should get you all home.”

“Yes,” Onestar agreed, hopping across the border to set the kits on the other side, one by one. “I’m sorry that our kits caused so much trouble.”

“We have kits of our own,” Firestar replied warmly, the leader’s own way of accepting the apology. Lionpaw looked down at his paws, almost as though he was remembering something. “So we know what it’s like.”

He picked up Sedgekit gently by the scruff. “Thanks for rescuing us!” the kit called back at the ThunderClan apprentices.

* * *

 

“Nightcloud.” He looked at his mate. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a she-cat speak with her mate?”

“You never talk to me. Unless it’s to tell me to back off from Breezepaw, even though I just want to talk to him. Be a _father.”_

“It’s too late for that now, Crowfeather. You made your choice, and he’s old enough to make his own.”

* * *

 

He came back from hunting, a rabbit between his jaws when he saw Squirrelflight with Whitetail, and the female apprentice - Hollypaw - behind her.

He quickly dropped his catch into the fresh-kill pile. Squirrelflight calmly padded up to him.

He turned towards her. The ThunderClan she-cat was a reminder of his past, things he dared not name for fear of getting caught up in them.

“No,” she replied. “At least, yes, but not with the Clans.” Hollypaw stepped forward.

“The Tribe of Rushing Water needs our help,” she said. “The cats who went to the sun-drown-place must go to the mountains.” He was taken aback by that.

“And they want apprentices to come too, don’t they?” he retorted, looking at Hollypaw.

She flicked his shoulder with his tail. He flinched at the contact. “Crowfeather, neither of us can complain about apprentices making the journey.” He remained silent. “Talon and Night - do you remember them? - came to our camp to fetch Stormfur and Brook. The Tribe is being threatened by a group of invading cats who are trying to take over its hunting grounds.” He narrowed his eyes. “We - I mean Brambleclaw and I - thought we would go and help too.”

He considered it, keeping his face blank. “What’s it got to do with us?” he ventured.

“They helped us on the Great Journey,” she answered evenly. He straightened.

“And Feathertail _died_ for them!” That, he thought, was enough payment for a few night’s stay - the Clans didn’t owe the Tribe anything. “We owe them nothing.”

“Feathertail was willing to help the Tribe before. She would help them again.” Squirrelflight’s voice was calm. “It wasn’t the Tribe’s fault she died.” No, but it was easier to blame them than the true cause. “You can blame Sharptooth for that.” Wrong.

It was his fault Feathertail died. She died because he put his mouse-brained self in danger of dying.

He would rather it be him than Feathertail who died.

“Squirrelflight, greetings.” He started. He hadn’t noticed Onestar’s patrol returning.

“Greetings, Onestar.” The ThunderClan warrior respectfully dipped her head.

“You’re welcome to our camp.” He seemed surprised, but trying to act both friendly and confident. “What can we do for you?”

She launched into her explanation, more detailed than what she had told him, so he listened raptly. Other cats gathered around, wondering why ThunderClan was back so soon. “So Brambleclaw and I thought that all the cats who went on the first journey should go now and help the Tribe. Brambleclaw has gone to ShadowClan to speak to Tawnypelt, and I came here to tell Crowfeather.”

Onestar narrowed his eyes. “He would be away for a long time, perhaps a moon or more.”

“And I have an apprentice.” Crowfeather’s gaze slid over to Onestar.

“True.” Onestar acknowledged his statement. “All the same, I think you should go. The Tribe of Rushing Water gave us food and shelter on the Great Journey. Without their help, many cats would have died, and we might have never have found this home by the lake.” He was about to open up his mouth. “Besides,” Onestar continuing prevented him from speaking, “the mountain cats were kind to Tallstar on his last life. We would honor him by helping them now.” He was surprised Onestar actually wanted him to make this journey. Usually, the leader wasn’t the type to willing let his warriors go.

“But what about Heatherpaw’s training?” It sounded weak, even to himself.

“Whitetail can take over as her mentor. She will be without an apprentice, as I think it would be a good idea if Breezepaw went with you.”

He wasn’t too surprised by that, actually.

“What?” Breezepaw asked, clearly stunned.

“You’re so lucky,” Heatherpaw cut in. “I would give my tail to go.”

“Well, _I_ don’t want to!” he replied. That was probably Crowfeather’s fault. He felt horrible - his own son hated him. He didn’t hate Breezepaw, though. He wanted Breezepaw to at least like him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be coming back,” Hollypaw snapped at him.

“How do _you_ know that?” His tail hung lower. “I think my Clanmates just want to get rid of me.” His _Clanmates_ were right there, and though he had heard about Breezepaw being considered annoying, he still sought his son’s approval over everything else. Crowfeather, at least, didn’t want to get rid of him.

Nightcloud would never forgive him.

“It is my choice if I go,” he said. “And I…I will go. I would like to stand again in the place where Feathertail lies.”

“What about Breezepaw?” Squirrelflight inquired.

He sighed. He’d honestly prefer not to, but maybe this would be his chance. “Yes,” he decided, voice trembling slightly. “I suppose he must come too, if Onestar orders it.”

“Do you want Crowfeather and Breezepaw to come with you now?” Onestar asked.

“Yes, please,” Squirrelflight answered. “We thought we would all stay in the ThunderClan camp tonight and set off in the morning. Leafpool is preparing travelling herbs.”

“I want to say goodbye to my friends first!” Breezepaw strongly protested.

“There isn’t time,” he snapped. He wanted to get out and away and just…be away from all the expectations that suffocated him.

Heatherpaw padded up. “I’ll say goodbye for you.” She touched her nose to his shoulder. “And don’t worry. You’ll have some amazing stories to tell us when you get back.” He didn’t seem bolstered by Heatherpaw’s words.

Nightcloud emerged from the group of his Clanmates, and she said, “Take care.” It might have seemed caring, but it sounded stiff to Crowfeather. He licked her ear quickly, a gesture for a gesture.

“Thank you.” Squirrelflight dipped her head towards Onestar. Crowfeather led the way out of the camp.

He still couldn’t shake anything. The mountains wouldn’t change that, but maybe he could at least obtain something from visiting them again. Seeing Feathertail’s grave would be refreshing, hopefully. His feelings for Leafpool were like a wave, while the ones for Feathertail were like a puddle. The wave came and went, receded to only come back in full force. A puddle may take a long time to dry up completely, but it does dry up eventually, the only thing left the memory of its presence.

* * *

 

“Travelling herbs,” Jaypaw meowed, dropping the herbs at his paws.

“Thank you,” he replied to the apprentice, wondering why Leafpool had chosen not to deliver them herself.

He distantly watched Jaypaw approach the Tribe cats.

It was too late to back out, even if he regretted his decision.

* * *

 

“The Tribe catches prey very differently than we do. We run after our prey - they wait for it. They hunt hawks and rabbits, mostly. Multiple cats can leap up and take down a hawk, and the rabbits are just for one cat, just as we do it in WindClan.” It felt like awkward filler to him as he spoke to Breezepaw, and he doesn’t know what to say. At all.

* * *

 

“Remember how we felt when we first climbed up here?” Tawnypelt asked, addressing the cats on the original journey.

“I remember how sore my paws were,” Squirrelflight joked.

“Tallpoppy’s kit fell over here. Ferncloud picked her up and carried her. We all helped one another then.” Brambleclaw sounded almost wistful.

He wasn’t the only wistful one. “But it can’t be like that anymore. It’s…natural for Clans to be rivals.”

The days when there were no borders to divide him and Leafpool. The nothingness of the outside. The whirlwind of the life that he never had - but wished he did.

* * *

 

They were stopping for the night when Crowfeather scented a rabbit, diving for it and running. It felt exhilarating - a break from the overall normalcy. He wished he had enough stamina to run forever, to feel the wind through his fur.

To avoid the duty that crashed on him like the waterfall of the Tribe.

The rabbit ran from him - right into Breezepaw’s grasp.

Crowfeather nodded at his son, a rush of pride washing through him.

* * *

 

The two of them were separate from the rest of the group.

“I don’t see why we have to come at all. What can _we_ do to help these weird cats - and why does it matter anyways? What has the Tribe ever done for _us?”_

It’s a valid question for someone who didn’t experience the journey firsthand, and he answers it level headedly (and maybe a bit wistfully, too). “Feathertail gave her life saving them from Sharptooth. If they were worthy of our help then, they deserve it now. Otherwise she died for nothing.”

“Well, from the sounds of it, we’ve helped them enough.” Breezepaw, just as impulsive and hot-headed as he was and still is.

Being self-aware doesn’t cure everything.

And it doesn’t make it better.

He sighed. “You’ll never understand loyalty.”

* * *

 

The morning came upon them, alongside a visitor.

“Purdy!” Squirrelflight exclaimed, excited and surprised.

“You _know_ this kittypet?” Hollypaw asked, looking at her mother with astonishment.

“We met him on our first journey.” Even without looking at her, he could practically hear her smile. “He helped us find the way to the sun-drown-place.”

“Hey, Purdy!” Tawnypelt emerged from the makeshift den she had been sleeping in. How was she always so energetic? “How’s the prey running?”

Stormfur padded up behind her. “Greetings, Purdy. I’m glad that StarClan has decided to join our paths again.”

“A friend o’ mine told me that there were strange cats in the woods, and I reckoned they might be you.” Crowfeather flicked his tail, still standing towards the back of the crowd. “But where’s the rest o’ you? Where’s that scrawny young apprentice that was always arguin’?

He stepped up, gaze sweeping back and forth. “Here.”

“Are you going to _let_ him talk to you like that?” Breezepaw challenged.

He sighed. “You don’t understand, Breezepaw. Purdy was a part of our journey. That’s important.”

The apprentice huffed in reply.

To move the conversation forward, Brambleclaw hurriedly stated, “Crowfeather’s a warrior now.”

“So am I,” Squirrelflight added. She still wanted to have the last word. “My warrior name is Squirrelflight.”

“Well, I never!” Purdy exclaimed. “But there were six of you,” he continued, scanning across the group. “Where’s the silver cat - Feathersomethin’?

“She died,” he answered hurriedly.

“I’m sorry to hear it.” There was a momentary pause. “I never thought I’d see Clan cats again, an’ now here you all are.”

“We’re not all Clan cats,” Stormfur pointed out.

Crowfeather spaced out, snapping back in when Hollypaw, Jaypaw, and Lionpaw stepped up.

“This is my son, Breezepaw.” He nudged Breezepaw forwards.

* * *

 

They walk past a barn. It’s unimportant, until they realize that Hollypaw, Lionpaw, and Breezepaw have gone back to find prey.

Purdy is the one to bring the three of them back. Hollypaw collapses into the grass and falls asleep, probably tired.

They wait for her to wake up.

* * *

 

It’s not long before she comes to, both himself and Brambleclaw standing over her. He is drawn to her for some reason. He doesn’t know why.

“Are the three of you completely mouse-brained?” Brambleclaw scolded. “You were _told_ there were dogs in the barn.

“Sorry,” Hollypaw said, looking away from her father.

“We weren’t thinking,” Lionpaw said, ashamed.

“Obviously,” Brambleclaw replied.

“It’s not all our fault, though,” Breezepaw piped up. _Why is he always like this? Why is he so contrary? I certainly hope that I’ve grown out of that._ “If you hadn’t let us get so hungry-”

“None of you has ever known what it means to be really hungry,” he snapped, eyes flashing. Images tumbled through his head of the moors, of unsuccessful hunting patrols, of the sticky mud that cats got stuck in before they left, the Twoleg monsters that had committed the crimes.

“And I hope all three of you have thanked Purdy,” Brambleclaw continued, almost as though none of that had happened and he was just scolding his kits. “You’re lucky that he guessed where you’d gone. If he hadn’t-”

“We could have found our own way up the hay,” Breezepaw interrupted. It’s a bad move to interrupt anyone, and it’s an even bigger mistake since Brambleclaw is a deputy. “We don’t owe _anything_ to that crazy old cat.”

Hollypaw looked at Breezepaw indignantly, which was just about a physical representation of his own reaction. The warrior hissed and turned away.

* * *

 

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Brambleclaw proclaimed.

“But it’s still daylight,” Talon argued. “We can go farther before it’s too dark to travel.”

Crowfeather was inclined to agree. “I hope you’re not stopping because of these apprentices,” he added. “If they’re tired, it’s their own fault.”

“No, I’m not,” Brambleclaw replied quietly, just as sure of himself as he was when he was younger. “Though none of us will get very far if they collapse. But if we rest here now we can get an early start tomorrow and reach the mountains before nightfall.”

They all universally decided to split up and hunt while the apprentices stayed at their temporary campsite.

* * *

 

The next morning, they started out to the mountains.

“Home,” Brook whispered, and though it couldn’t quite incite the same feelings in his heart as seeing the moors, the pull of nostalgia still dragged him.

(The pull of Feathertail, really.

It was a loop.

The stipends were only temporary.

He would always love her.

StarClan, he needed to move on.

But this place was not under the jurisdiction of StarClan. Here belonged to the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

He could mope a little longer, as long as when he got back to the Clans it was all business.)

“We’ve made good time,” Talon announced to the group, startling him out of his reverie. “We can climb up to our cave before dark.”

“Are you sure?” Squirrelflight asked, doubt visible in her expression. “Remember the apprentices aren’t experienced climbers. We don’t want to be stuck out on the mountain overnight.”

He’d remain passive for this conversation.

“Are we going to be held up by the apprentices _again?_ ” Talon retorted.

“The apprentices will be fine,” Stormfur said, soothing Squirrelflight. “We can help them. What do you think, Brambleclaw?”

And, of course, they deferred to Brambleclaw. Not that he minded. Brambleclaw typically made good decisions, certainly better than his own.

Brambleclaw deliberated for a bit. “Okay, let’s go.”

* * *

 

The climb up to the mountain was rather uneventful, until Hollypaw ruins the peace for them.

“Lionpaw!” she shouted, “Come here!”

The shouts bring the intruders to them.

He shoves Jaypaw towards the center, into the other apprentices.

“We can fight!” Lionpaw argued. _Not all of you can,_ Crowfeather thought. _It’d kill me if one of you died._

“Yes, you don’t have to _protect_ us,” Hollypaw spat in agreement.

Breezepaw snarled.

“What have we here?” one of the small group (a patrol, perhaps) said, in the way that villains in his head said, nonchalant but threatening.

The leader’s eyes roamed lazily between them, assessing each of them. He had three companions.

He said, “Oh, I’ve seen you before. What are you doing so…far from the waterfall?” The question bears malevolence, directed at Talon. “I didn’t think you hunted in these parts anymore.”

“Do you think they’re _scared,_ Stripes?” another piped up, nudging the leader - Stripes - in the shoulder.

“Flick, you could be right.” The leader smirked. “I reckon they’ve realized that the prey around here belongs to us.” Assertive and threatening, intended to undermine them. “That was a _great_ rabbit I had earlier. Good and fat, more than I could eat.”

“You should show more respect for prey!” Crowfeather snapped. He hadn’t been quite sure what he was doing, but once it was out there, there was no taking it back.

“Who are _you_ to tell us what to do?” the skinny brown tom spat, turning his attention to him.

“Want to find out?” he retorted. _Just as impulsive, just as quick to jump in. You haven’t changed a bit,_ the voice in his head whispered. _There just isn’t any hope for you, is there?_

Brambleclaw warned him gently. “We’re not looking for a fight,” he whispered. Crowfeather glared and bristled visibly, but didn’t say anything. _Good job! Maybe you can get something right,_ the voice whispers again.

“What are you going to do with them, Stripes?” Flick asks, and he turns his glare to the intruders.

Before any of the group could answer, Night stepped forwards. She was cold with anger, hard and stiff. “You’ve no right to do anything with us,” she hissed. “You’ve no right to come here and steal _our_ prey.”

“Rights?” the patched she-cat replied, with a drawl. “Who gave you the right in the first place?”

“Well _said,_ Flora,” the brown tom replied.

“We’re not looking for trouble,” Brambleclaw said, attempting to defuse the situation. “We’re just travelling to the waterfall. You should let us go in peace.”

Brambleclaw had this sort of effect on other cats where he could calm them with a few words under the right tone of voice. Crowfeather always suspected that having that skill would be extremely helpful in a position of power, like Brambleclaw was.

The group took a step back. “We’re not trying to stop you.” _It certainly sounds like you are,_ he thought. _Crowfeather, shut up! Now’s not the time to be aggressive._

Brambleclaw dipped his head and the group progressed past. Breezepaw slunk past them with a hiss. _He’s just like you,_ the voice whispered.

He had to prove it wrong. He pushed Breezepaw ahead. “Are you mouse-brained? Are you _trying_ to cause a fight?” he snapped. _Easy to anger. Snaps at his own son. Has no affection towards anyone but the dead,_ the intrusive voice whispered.

“They’re asking for it,” Breezepaw muttered under his breath. He glared at Breezepaw.

* * *

 

They arrived at the Tribe’s camp, at long last.

Crowfeather walked over to the site of Feathertail’s grave.

Maybe he could finally let go of her.

Maybe.

He bowed his head with respect. Maybe the words were empty. Maybe he would face no response. But at least maybe he would retain closure.

“Feathertail,” he whispered. “I miss you. I know it could never be. I know that it wouldn’t work. Is it bad to miss you? Is it bad that I’ll always love you? Is it bad that I don’t know how to live without you? Is it bad that you’re the only cat I’ve ever loved?” He paused. “Neither Nightcloud or Leafpool ever have or ever will possess my heart as wholly as you did. Still do. And maybe I’m talking to an empty grave. Maybe you’re watching over the Clans and you’re back where home is. But I think I just need to hear the words come out of my mouth. Maybe I’ll at least be able to look at the water again and see my reflection without my guilt.” He took a deep breath. “I seriously don’t think so, but I _can_ make an attempt at moving on. Goodbye.” The warrior sighed and looks up, but the stars are blocked out by the roof of the cave. “I doubt it’ll be permanent, but goodbye for now.”

He padded deeper into the cave, not looking back at Feathertail’s grave.

* * *

 

Lionpaw nearly plummeted to his death one day.

His heart stopped for a moment, but he has always the type to rescue falling cats. The flash of _Leafpool_ briefly invaded his head, but Lionpaw was rescued before it could go further.

* * *

 

Lionpaw struck the intruders first.

That remained in Crowfeather’s head during the brief skirmish.

The cats were all young, around the age of their apprentices. Still, out of devotion, they helped Lionpaw, not fighting harder than necessary.

* * *

They have to fight the intruders.

Crowfeather always had the feeling that it would come down to a fight, but he was unsure of whether he was wrong or right.

* * *

 

A full moon, auspicious to Clan but meaningless to anyone else. It was the brightest, making it good so that they could see the cats they will attack.

He watched the apprentices, their hope that the Tribe would survive. He wasn’t sure when exactly he had become so invested in the Tribe of Rushing Water; maybe it was some morbid interest left over from Feathertail.

He descended into the fight as the intruders stormed from their camp and scattered, chasing them off.

It was over.

There was nothing left to do but head home.

* * *

 

They said farewell to each other; they had to do it again.

Parting this time was easier than last, because they had all grown up into themselves slightly more. They knew that the screeches of war may divide their friendships, but they didn’t need each other, really. It wasn’t like last time, where they all let themselves get too attached.

It really wasn’t.

* * *

 

They made it back to the Clans, without the complications that had graced the beginning of their journey.

* * *

 

Onestar has started to send patrols out to the forest near the ThunderClan border. Crowfeather supposed that the more area that they hunt in, the higher probability that they’ll catch prey. He didn’t know why Onestar did it. He just had to follow his leader.

* * *

 

He figured out why, at long last. The rabbits have moved out from the moor. They were running low on prey; every spare bit went to the queens and elders as the warrior code ordained, and Crowfeather wouldn’t be surprised if some cats took prey for themselves. Everyone was hungry. The gnawing at his belly had been going for days, and he was one of many.

* * *

 

Cats are stealing from ThunderClan. He doesn’t want to be one of them, but he will if he has to. He will if ordered to. He will if it means his Clan lives.

* * *

 

“There are tunnels beneath the lake,” Heatherpaw confesses to him one day.

“Really?” he responds, because it could be important someday.

“That’s where we found the kits from ThunderClan. They found the tunnels and were in there.”

“That...that could be a huge advantage for us, especially if ThunderClan doesn’t know. You have to tell Onestar. Show him. Because I believe you, I think that you’re telling the truth, but he’s a leader. He shouldn’t run on faith alone, and he doesn’t. So tell him that you can show him the tunnels, and if he asks you to prove it, do so.” Crowfeather knew Onestar. He had Onestar pegged down, and he wouldn’t just _believe_ Heatherpaw.

“I’ll show you where they are. I promised the others not to blab to Onestar. And I’m not breaking my promise to them by telling you, and if you tell him then I can plead ignorance if someone brings it up,” Heatherpaw responds.

“Alright, lead me.”

And, for once, the apprentice leads the mentor.

* * *

 

“Onestar, may I speak with you?” Crowfeather asks him, maybe a couple days later - he’s stopped keeping track.

“What about?”

“There are tunnels underneath our territory. I found them one night while taking a walk. I think they might connect to ThunderClan territory if you find the right routes, but I don’t know for sure. I’ll show you the entrance I found.” The lie slips out so easily. Lying has gradually become easier. Lying to his Clan (“I’m mates with Nightcloud, of course I love her”), and to himself as well (“I’ll be over Leafpool and Feathertail soon. Someday all this will stop”). And this lie took less skill to pull than any of those untruths.

“Show me, then,” Onestar commands, and the leader is the one who follows yet again.

* * *

 

 _This is a bad idea,_ he thinks as they sneak through the tunnels. _This is a monumentally bad idea. We could hurt kits, elders, and queens. I am not in favor._

_It’s not like you could protest anyways, Crowfeather. You’re just a warrior, and a fickle one at that._

He really needed to stop thinking like that. He was a part of WindClan, and he would not undermine Onestar.

They’re led through ThunderClan territory and burst into the camp, rousing the Clan as they go for the attack.

Firestar is facing Onestar. “Why are you doing this, Onestar?”

“Because _we,_ unlike you, are true warriors. You think you’re the most important Clan in the forest, but your Clan has barely any respect for the warrior code. WindClan! We’re going, they aren’t worth our time.” Onestar spits in Firestar’s direction as he leads the cats out of camp.

ThunderClan, Crowfeather senses, has followed them out.

* * *

 

As they’re slipping into the tunnels, ThunderClan attacks them, and there the fighting begins.

Someone is sent off to fetch RiverClan to help them, he hears. Probably Heatherpaw, Breezepaw, or one of the other apprentices.

He fights hard against the cats, caring just enough for his Clan to keep going.

 _Mouse-dung, ShadowClan is joining ThunderClan._ It’s cataclysmic and loud, the sound of yowling cats background to the noise of paws on earth and running, fur rustling and panting.

The fighting goes on, and he slashes and defends like any ideal warrior, in the zone.

Lionpaw comes charging through. Sunpaw and a RiverClan apprentice runs away. Heatherpaw, though, seems to step up to the challenge, rearing up to fight him.

He kept an eye on the two of them, just in case Heatherpaw got swept away in the fight, but concentrated mostly on his own fight. Lionpaw released Heatherpaw and walked away.

He follows after the apprentice. “Where’s. Heatherpaw.”

“Get out of my way!” the apprentice roars.

“Where is she?” Crowfeather snarls again.

 _“Get out of my way!”_ Lionpaw shouts in reply and lunges at him. Crowfeather has nothing else to do but fight back. The apprentice is broader, and though Crowfeather fights, he is pinned. Crowfeather continues to try to break free, feeling Lionpaw claw at his pelt and ripping at the fir on his torso.

“Stop it!” Heatherpaw screeched, dragging Lionpaw away. “What are you doing?”

Some of the claw marks were at his neck, but most were shallow. Though bleeding, they wouldn’t be deadly unless infected. Lionpaw had frozen and was looking at him with horror in his eyes. Heatherpaw walked over to him.

“Crowfeather!” she said, a declaration.

He lifted his head to speak. “I’m okay.” Crowfeather staggered to his paws and Heatherpaw backed away from the two of them.

He noticed a change in the light, all of a sudden, and looked up towards the sky. A shadow was beginning to cross the sun, and so it did. The silence as cats began to notice was deafening. The sounds of battle had ceased as every cat turned to the sky as the shadow took the sun in its grasp. The entire site was silent with anticipation and nervousness. It wasn’t a cloud. A shadow of some sort, he didn’t know.

“What’s happening?” Heatherpaw asked, panicked.

The air was chilled, as though it were night. Stars freckled the sky, as though it were no longer day - the shadow had plunged them all into night.

“StarClan’s killed the sun!” Dewspots shrieked. The caterwaul of cats wailing echoed through the forest as the four Clans fled to their territories.

“We’ve got to get home,” he said in between coughs, dragging Heatherpaw with him. “Come on!”

She turned to follow him, and Lionpaw whispered something he couldn’t detect to her.

* * *

 

The sun fades back to life, as though it had never happened. The shadow moves on, and everyone is left wondering what happened.

* * *

 

The Gathering, that full moon, is very separate. Cats don’t mingle, they don’t go outside of their Clans. This is a briefing for news, nothing more than that.

He just sits, but he can feel the tension rolling off of some of the cats, especially Heatherpaw. She weaves in and out between cats, and seems antsy.

But he doesn’t need to worry about his apprentice. For now, he’ll just focus on the leaders. He can feel Nightcloud’s presence beside him, but doesn’t talk to her.

What would he have to say?

There seems to be one key piece missing from the Gathering, and that’s ShadowClan. The other Clans have arrived.

Just then, every cat’s muzzle turns to the tree-bridge, so he stands up and turns to watch as Blackstar and Sol cross the bridge. He hears someone whisper behind them, “Where’s the rest of ShadowClan?”

The cats parted to let the two of them through. They stopped in the center of the island, with everyone’s eyes on them.

“I bring news,” Blackstar announced. “ShadowClan will no longer attend Gatherings.” The chatter stopped, as though the gossiping cats had been stunned into silence. Whatever they had expected, that wasn’t it. “We no longer believe that StarClan hold all the answers. It was _living_ cats who found the lake. It is _living_ cats that hunt prey to keep themselves alive, and it was a _living_ cat who predicted the sun would vanish.”

Onestar called from his perch in the tree, “He predicted the sun would vanish?” The leader jerked his muzzle towards Sol to indicate who he was talking about.

“I did no more than warn it would happen,” the cat in question responded, dipping his head.

“How did you know?” Leopardstar demanded.

“How did you _not_ know?” Sol retorted. “You, after all, are the ones that communicate with StarClan.”

Barkface interjected, “They didn’t warn us.”

“And they didn’t warn me, either,” the loner continued, voice smooth. “I merely followed my own instinct and listened to my own voice of experience. You, of course, are entitled to believe in whatever you want…”

Sol and Blackstar turned away, leaving three other restless Clans.

* * *

 

He throws himself into training Heatherpaw, trying his best not to deal with Clan or personal politics.

* * *

 

“Heatherpaw, I think you’re ready to be assessed,” he tells her. “I’m going to talk to Onestar after this patrol.” It’s just the two of them hunting together. Heatherpaw doesn’t ask questions of him that he can’t answer, for which he is eternally grateful for.

He thinks that perhaps she was ready long before, but he didn’t want to lose her. Not in that way, but training Heatherpaw was a way of escaping his terrible personal life. By training her, he could make sure that someone who entered his life turned out right.

“Are you okay?” Well, mostly doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t know how to answer.

“Fine, just thinking,” he ends up with, which isn’t the greatest answer, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Soon she won’t be his responsibility.

* * *

 

“Can I talk to you?” Nightcloud asks.

“Sure,” Crowfeather answers, sitting down.

“No, in private. Outside. We don’t need to air our issues with the Clan.” He gets up, and follows her.

“It’s like I don’t exist with you. You don’t acknowledge the fact that I exist, or Breezepaw, and he deserves better than you and we both know it.” He can’t say a thing. “You use me because I’m convenient for you, and you don’t feel guilty about it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” he replies, though it’s faint, and barely a protest. “You don’t let me in. You don’t want me in, and if you don’t want me to be there then I won’t. I feel guilty a lot, but it’s too late to change things now.”

* * *

 

Heatherpaw passes her warrior assessment with flying colors.

It’s what Crowfeather expected, after all. He wouldn’t send Heatherpaw into it if he didn’t think she would. Maybe a little overconfident, but she passed, so it’s not like he can complain.

* * *

 

The ceremony takes place a few days later.

“Let all cats old enough to gather their own prey gather beneath the Tallrock!” Onestar calls, the Clan gathering. He sits up straighter as he realizes that Heatherpaw will become a warrior once and for all today.

“Heatherpaw, step forwards,” the leader declares. Heatherpaw looks around, a little bit startled, but steps up.

“I, Onestar, leader of WindClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” He pauses to make eye contact with Heatherpaw. “Heatherpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your own life?”

“I do,” she promises, and her words convey confidence that her expression does not show.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Heatherpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Heathertail. May StarClan honor your tenacity and responsibility.”

“Heathertail!” Whitetail is the first to lead the cheer. He joins her shortly after, and the rest of the Clan starts chanting her new name.

As the shouts die down, Onestar announces that the Clan is dismissed.

* * *

 

“How does it feel?” Whitetail asks him.

“For what?”

“To not have anyone to be responsible for,” she spits.

“I’m still responsible for myself. Nobody is ever truly free of responsibility.”

“Okay, rephrase, how does it feel to not be responsible for someone else?”

“What do you mean, I’m not responsible for anyone else?”

“You don’t _act_ responsible for anyone but yourself. You let Nightcloud do all the parenting.”

“What is this, an intervention?” He storms off.

He doesn’t need to be told what to do. He doesn’t need to be told that he’s doing something wrong. He knows how to read other cats, and he knows that Nightcloud doesn’t want him around, so he stays away. He’s willing to share the responsibility of parenting with Nightcloud, but she’s not willing to share it with him.

* * *

 

Nightcloud is the leader of the cheering for Breezepelt. He follows along shortly after, but he knows it isn’t enough. He’s never been enough for anyone, so why should he even try to be enough? He’ll never succeed, so it’s just futile.

* * *

 

He’s been assigned to a border patrol with Tornear leading, Whitetail, and Heathertail. His ears are pricked and his eyes are wide open, scanning for anything as they head towards the ThunderClan border.

“...cats nearby.” The unmistakable voice of Firestar. He flicks his tail towards the source of the noise, looking at Whitetail.

The leader came out of the woods and he saw the patrol. One of them hissed to someone near her, “I can’t imagine why cats would choose to live here!”

“We like it here!” Tornear responds as they come over the crest, and Crowfeather knows it true.

“Greetings, Tornear,” Firestar smoothly meowed, dipping his head.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and he let Tornear handle the work, even as his fur rose. He didn’t want to fight, but he needed to be on guard.

“I need to speak with Onestar,” Firestar answers, ever the diplomat. “May we visit your camp?”

Tornear regarded them with suspicion, but eventually nodded. “Very well, but we’ll escort you. And you’d better not start anything.”

“We only want to talk,” Firestar promised. _Yeah, we’ve all heard that one before,_ Crowfeather thought, but he flanked the patrol anyways.

Tornear spoke briefly to Onestar. Crowfeather just watched the conversation as Onestar turned to Barkface. Onestar signaled to the ThunderClan cats to enter.

“Greetings, Onestar,” Firestar announced. “Thank you for allowing us to talk to you.”

“Say what you have to say,” Onestar replied slowly, probably wanting to get the ThunderClan cats out of the camp as soon as possible.

“I’d like to speak with you in private,” Firestar began, but was cut off by Onestar.

“Anything you have to say can be said to my Clanmates,” he replied, shaking his head.

Ashfoot pads up to his side, deputy standing beside leader. A show of solidarity.

“If that’s how you want it.” Firestar narrowed his eyes. “On the night of the Gathering, we found Ashfur’s body in the stream that marks our border. There was a gash in his throat. We think a cat killed him.”

Some gasping was audible, and a few cats bristled. Breezepelt yowled.

“How _dare_ you assume we had _anything_ to do with it?” Onestar hissed in reply. “We have nothing to gain from killing one of your warriors.”

 _Onestar’s right,_ Crowfeather thought. _We don’t. We might hate ThunderClan, but nobody wants to be a murderer and risk exile. Besides, Ashfur wasn’t terrible._

“None of us have any quarrel with Ashfur,” Whitetail interjects.

“This Clan is certainly loyal to the warrior code,” he finds himself saying, more aggressively than he would have intended.

“No cat is accusing you,” Firestar replied, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “We came to ask you if you saw anything that night.”

“What, like one of my warriors killing Ashfur?” Onestar snapped in reply. “Look to your own Clanmates first, Firestar. Question _their_ loyalty to the warrior code first, not ours.”

There was a brief silent standoff. The tension could practically have been ripped with a claw.

“Then you saw nothing?” Firestar pushed.

“Nothing,” Onestar spat. “Now get out of our territory. Ashfoot, take a couple of warriors and escort them to the border.”

She turned to Breezepelt and Tornear, who got up to help her.

“Thank you, Onestar,” Firestar ended formally. “If you learn anything more, will you please send us a message?”

Onestar just narrowed his eyes.

* * *

 

“Hey, wake up.” Owlwhisker nudged at his back with a paw, but it was Gorsetail that spoke. “There are ThunderClan cats on the border that want to see you. I don’t know why, but it’s your business.”

“Alright, I’ll go alone. I doubt they came to pick a fight,” he responds, getting up. He stretches his jaw in a yawn, and heads out of camp with a light trot.

He walked across the moors towards the stream that divided their territories, into the brief patch of forest, and saw the three cats. Jayfeather in the center, his siblings flanking him. _Of course Firestar’s spawn would be the cats that wanted to see me._ He quashes the thought that Leafpool was never like that, that he was always the one seeking her instead of the other way around.

“What do you want?” he barked.

“Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight are not our parents,” Lionblaze said. Crowfeather rolled his eyes, biting back the response _And why did you feel the need to inform me about this?_

“Leafpool is our mother, and you are our father,” he proclaimed. Crowfeather froze briefly, a flash of _no no no we were so careful how could this be_ rushing through his mind before it shut down.

“Don’t be mouse-brained,” he snapped. “That’s impossible.” But still, the flashback was still in the back of his head.

“It’s true,” Jayfeather confidently responded. “You didn’t know, did you?” The question is breathless, and Crowfeather is sure that they are just as afraid as he is.

“No,” he distantly replied, then shook his head and stiffened. “I have _one_ mate. Her name is Nightcloud. We have one son, Breezepelt.” _But we could have had more._ “I don’t know why you’ve come to me with these lies. Go home, and don’t come back. Why should I care about _ThunderClan_ cats? You mean nothing to me. Nothing.”

“The truth is out now. You can’t hide anymore.”

 _But I’ll try my hardest to._ He took a breath and turned from the border. _There’s no way it’s true. They’re trying to knock me off balance._

* * *

 

Crowfeather sat with Nightcloud and Breezepelt for once, his attention on the leaders, but was tuned into their light conversation. They wouldn’t want his input even if he had input to offer, but he still kept an ear to their words. He smelled the forest-scent of ThunderClan, and knew the Clan had arrived. He twitched an ear, the only outer sign of his lack of patience.

Firestar scrambled up onto the Great Oak.

Leopardstar let out a sharp yowl, the chatter stopped, and the Gathering began.

“The Gathering has began,” she started, “RiverClan will report first. Prey is running well. Mistyfoot, Reedwhisker, and Rainstorm drove a fox out of our territory.” She stepped back, allowing Blackstar to speak next.

“ShadowClan is thriving.” His low voice travelled over the silent cats. “Littlecloud has taken Flamepaw as an apprentice, and introduced him to StarClan at the Moonpool.” A few ShadowClan cats cheered for the future medicine cat, and even more congratulated him.

Firestar rose to his paws to speak. “Sol has left the forest. We-”

He was cut off by Blackstar. “About time.”

Leopardstar dipped her head. “I’m glad you saw sense at last, Firestar.”

“Besides that,” the ginger cat continued, but was interrupted by someone else.

“Wait!” she proclaimed, and then Crowfeather recognized the voice. _Hollyleaf._ “There’s something I have to say that all the Clans should know about.”

He saw Lionblaze try to talk her down, but she refused to be persuaded. “You think you--”

“Hollyleaf!” Firestar roared. “If you have anything important to say here, it should have been discussed with me here. Be silent now, and whatever’s troubling you, I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow.”

“No!” she meowed, defiant. He straightened up with surprise and heard several cats around him gasping, including Nightcloud. “I _will_ speak now.”

“Yes, let her speak.” Leopardstar sounded faintly interested. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“So would I,” Onestar growled.

“Or does ThunderClan have secrets that they’re too scared to reveal?” Blackstar taunted.

Crowfeather knew exactly what secrets they thought they had.

“Yeah!” Breezepelt challenged, along with cats from the other Clans - excluding ThunderClan.

Firestar called for silence by raising his tail. “Very well, Hollyleaf. Say what you have to. And StarClan grant you don’t regret it.”

“You think you know me,” she began. “And my brothers, Jayfeather and Lionblaze of ThunderClan. You think you know us, but everything you’ve been told about us is a _lie._ We are not the kits of Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight.”

From the roots of the Great Oak, Brambleclaw seemed confused. “What?” He turned to his mate. “Squirrelflight, why is she talking such nonsense?”

The she-cat in question stood up, an unidentifiable emotion ruling her expression. “I’m sorry, Brambleclaw, but it’s true. I am not their mother, and you’re not their father.”

“Then...who is?” Brambleclaw responded.

 _It’s not true,_ Crowfeather thought, mind racing. _It’s not real, I don’t know why they think so but it’s not real._

“Tell them, Hollyleaf,” Squirrelflight answered. “I kept the secret for seasons. I’m not going to be the one to reveal it now.”

“Coward!” Daughter spat in mother’s face. “I’m not afraid of the truth! Leafpool is our mother, and Crowfeather - yes, the WindClan cat - is our father.” Shock was the only response.

Nightcloud whispered in his ear, “Is it true?”

“They may be my kits, but they will never be my children,” he answered in a low voice.

“These cats were so _ashamed_ of us that they gave us away and lied to every one of you to hid the fact that they had broken the warrior code.” She turned to Leafpool. “How can the Clans survive when there are _cowards_ and _liars_ at the heart of them?”

“It’s not true!” he screamed, clinging to his fantasy. _“She’s_ the one who’s lying!”

Leafpool stood, preparing to defend herself. _I don’t want anything to do with you,_ he thought, and almost believed it was true. “It’s true, Crowfeather. I wanted to tell you, but there was never a right time.”

“You mean _nothing_ to me, Leafpool,” he declared. “That moon has passed. My loyalty is only to WindClan, and I have no kits other than Breezepelt.”

They presented a united front against her. Breezepelt and Nightcloud were both raging at Leafpool.

She merely acknowledged them by dipping her head. “I know that I can be ThunderClan’s medicine cat no longer.” For a moment, he almost pitied her. “I’m so sorry to you, Firestar, and to all my Clanmates. Please know that I tried my best, and regretted what I had done with every single breath.” She paused. “But I couldn’t regret having my kits. They are fine cats, and I will _always_ be proud of them.” The medicine cat glanced over at him briefly.

He wouldn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still one more chapter left, folks. I want to say that it'll come this year, but I don't know for sure.  
> Have a great day/night/wherever you are, and bye!

**Author's Note:**

> these exist but I want to finish before I do them  
> please comment/kudos/etc  
> feel free to hmu on Tumblr @ bouquet-of-amaryllis if you have coda ideas or questions


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